


A Special Death

by Aria_Masterson1153



Series: Warpaint [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: DR. JONATHAN TOEWS ANYONE?, M/M, P.O.W camps, Pat is the Joker, bathroom issues still unresolved, card tricks, character death (mentioned in passing), dark stuff in this part, descriptions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Masterson1153/pseuds/Aria_Masterson1153
Summary: “Did you know, if you shuffle a deck of cards seven times, the order becomes completely random? A lot of work to get things random, hm?” The Joker muttered, while cutting the cards for the next shuffle.“Kind of like life. Life is all about the way we play the cards we’ve been dealt. Because there are no bad hands; no, no…only bad players.” He glanced up at the camera, to ensure his audience was just as captivated as Jon.He continued his shuffling and opened his mouth to speak again. “Some people, they use cards to tell the future.” He scoffed. “But no, it doesn’t work like that. That’s just too…predictable. Besides what’s the fun in that if you know what’s going to happen next? It always comes down to a choice, one or the other. It’s the fork in the throat….road…the fork in the road,” the Joker giggled. “Simon’s the one with the fork in the throat.”





	

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Yay for me keeping my word! :))  
>   
> Attention new readers: **THIS IS PART OF A SERIES, AND WILL NOT BE UNDERSTAND IF THE FIRST TWO PARTS ARE NOT READ!** But, hey more Dr. Toews and Joker interactions for you to read!  
>   
>  Also, I have a feeling that you guys are going to like this one, Pat embraces his full Joker-ness (is that a word?)  
>   
> Enjoy!  
> 

  
Armed with this new information on the Joker, Jon slumped down in his desk chair in his apartment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Erica’s contact card.  
  
Erica Kane.  
  
Meaning that the Joker’s real name was Pat… _Kane._ He straightened up at this revelation, and powered up his Mac with a stab.  
  
He attempted to slow down his racing thoughts with a deep breath, finding it difficult to sort through his thoughts. He would start with a general search, and see what video Erica meant.  
  
Pulling up google, he inputted the name Pat Kane. The results were…shocking, to say the least.  
  


_”Young American Hero Held Captive in P.O.W Camp”_

_”Young Soldier in Ransom Video Directed towards U.S Government”_

His stomach dropped as he glanced over the titles of the articles. He clicked on one of the links and opened the video at the beginning of the article. The video began with the grainy lens of the camera pointing towards a grimy floor, and Jon shuddered to think what would have created such a mess. The camera panned up to a masked man crouched over the Joker, or… _Pat_ , he guessed. Pat was curled up into a ball, with a terrified expression engrained into his dirt-crusted features.

“Look who came wandering into enemy territory, looking for his compatriot. Recognize him, Americans?” The man spoke. “I wouldn’t think so, he’s just another one of your poorly trained lambs, coming over to scare us.”

The man grabbed a hold Pat’s knotted, overgrown hair, and Jon heard the quiet whimper of Patrick as Pat’s face was forced into the direction of the camera. “We want $10 million dollars for his precious little life.”

He then turned to Patrick. “Let’s see how much the country that you protect loves you. Let’s see how much they will sacrifice for you; you’re disposable to them, just another lamb who couldn’t make it on their own.”

As the camera focused on Pat’s profile, Jon realized with a lurch that he couldn’t have been much older than 20. Those eyes, which were always so clouded by mischief were clear, with the overwhelming realization that he was going to die. “Please do whatever they say!” He screamed, as tears created clear tracks down his muddy cheeks. “I don’t want to die… _please,_ ” he hopelessly murmured.

Jon could feel stinging in his eyes, at the pain that Pat had to endure at such a young age. He knew that Pat had made it out alive, but considering his agenda against the government, Jon could guess that it wasn’t with the government’s aid.

“Now look what’s happened, you’ve made yourself upset again,” the man said with sick humour laced in his tone. “You really should smile more often…” he trailed off with a twisted laugh as he dragged Pat out of the frame by his hair.

For a few seconds, the sounds of shuffling could be heard, and then a piercing scream could be heard, most likely Pat’s. Not the type of scream in horror movies, but the raw, bloodcurdling type, that left the person hoarse.

The type of scream used when people experienced unbearable pain.

Suddenly Jon had a sickening thought. _Oh god, the scars…_

++++++++++++

Jon felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t believe what he saw. The federal government had left Pat for dead. Considering the situation, Jon could _nearly_ understand the Joker’s motivation against the institution of government. Beyond the sickness, Jon felt a niggling sensation at the back of his mind; relief, that Pat had made it out alive. Not ready to deal with the repercussions of that thought, he pushed it to the back of his mind and buried it.

Obviously unaware of the backlash of their decision, the U.S government had no idea what they had unleashed on Gotham.

A picture of that familiar clown makeup on his TV jerked him out of his thoughts. He reached for his remote to turn up the volume.

“-Attention viewers, the Joker has released a video this morning appealing to the masses. Commissioner Gordon has released a statement about this video.” The anchor reported.

Suddenly the screen cut to a shot of Commissioner Gordon at a press conference, his face consistently illuminated by the constant flashes of the media’s cameras. “Good evening everyone, I wanted to put a stop to the panic pertaining to the following video.” The screen transitioned into the previous security picture of the Joker. “This man has some audacity in creating this video to scare Gotham’s public. In response to this video, we should unite-“

Jon turned off the TV with a huff. Points to Gordon for not referring to him as ‘The Joker’ but he was laying it on thick near the end. If the Joker posted a video to social media, the public should be very worried.

Jon pulled out his laptop and looked for the video through google. He eventually found it on a serial killer trivia website.

The video was titled ‘ _A Special Presentation to the Lambs of Gotham_ ’, which immediately sent a chill down Jon’s spine, with him now knowing the context and weight of the word to the Joker. Predicting the graphic content of the video, Jon hesitated before pushing play.

The video began with jerking movements, as if the camera man was attempting to set the camera in place, and it was also pixelated, but became focused. The frame revealed a small room with white stained walls that were beginning to peel, and a white plastic table.

The Joker then moved into the frame, and sat down behind the table, and stared at the camera, with a chilling, empty stare, for what seemed like minutes but was seconds in reality.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Jon jumped, breaking out of his trance. “I come to you, my favourite little lambs of Gotham,” the Joker smirked, “and those that aren’t worth mentioning.” The Joker’s voice lowered, and Jon could only guess that he was referring to the leaders of Gotham.

“I have a question for you all.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pack of cards. Off in the distance, Jon heard a pained gurgling noise. “No, no Simon. That wasn’t your queue.” The Joker sent a menacing look underneath the plastic table.

Then, like a flip of a switch, the Joker’s features turned cheerful. “All right, who wants to see a card trick?” The Joker began to nod assuredly. “Okay, folks. No need to yell, wouldn’t want the citizens to lose their sanity!” He flashed a knowing smirk at the camera while cocking his head to the right. “I live to serve the people, I’ll be tonight’s entertainment!”

Something clicked in Jon’s head with that final sentence. The Joker was fooling everyone. His clown themed costume and crazed antics made it seem like he was the not-so-funny entertainment to the people of Gotham. Yet, in reality, the people of Gotham were the true entertainment to the Joker, their failures, their murders at his hand, they all made him laugh. He enjoyed knowing how predicable everyone else was. His amusement came from breaking their predictable lives into little pieces and creating complete chaos. In his eyes, turning them to the true nature of human beings. However, the citizens didn’t realize their predictability. To them, they believed that were organized, but to the Joker, they were no more absurd than a civil war.

“Okay Simon, this is your queue. Pick a card, any card!” The Joker created a fan with the cards facing the camera, and then realization dawned his features. “Okay Si, no need to get up, I’ll pick one for you,” he snickered as he made a dramatic show of turning his head away and picking a card. “Here you go my friend,” he said as he walked around the table and bent down, presumably putting the card on the ground.

  
“Did you know, if you shuffle a deck of cards seven times, the order becomes completely random? A lot of work to get things random, hm?” The Joker muttered, while cutting the cards for the next shuffle.  
  
“Kind of like life. Life is all about the way we play the cards we’ve been dealt. Because there are no bad hands; no, no…only bad _players_.” He glanced up at the camera, to ensure his audience was just as captivated as Jon.  
  
He continued his shuffling and opened his mouth to speak again. “Some people, they use cards to tell the future.” He scoffed. “But no, it doesn’t work like that. That’s just too…predictable. Besides what’s the fun in that if you know what’s going to happen next? It always comes down to a choice, one or the other. It’s the fork in the throat…. _road_ …the fork in the road,” the Joker giggled. “Simon’s the one with the fork in the throat.” The Joker lifted up a finger, and walked out of the camera’s view. He returned and threw the bloody fork on the table. “See, Simon’s the perfect example. You think he saw this in his cards?” He questioned as he lifted up the bloody fork.

“The trick to cards? It’s not about finding which cards are yours, it’s about finding which cards you’re _not_. So. Let me lay my cards on the table, and see where you stack up.” He started to deal himself four cards on the table. “Because every card has a meaning.”

He picked up his first card. “Hearts are for emotions.”

“Spades are for intellect.” He spoke into the camera with a subtle wink, which sent Jon’s stomach plummeting to the floor. Well, the Joker did say that he would explain to Jon what spades meant. Jon just didn’t think it would so public.

“Diamonds show wealth.”

“And clubs, well, they’re to signify power.” He paused for a moment. “Or for hitting people.”

He cleared his four cards off the table. “So, are you the rich, Bruce Wayne type? No, no.” He threw away the king of diamonds.

“Or maybe the Harvey Dent type?” He questioned as he held up the king of spades. “Yeah, didn’t think so,” he said as he ripped the card in half to show the two faces of the card.

“Obviously you’re not Harleen Quinzel,” he snickered as he manifested the queen of hearts.

“Or maybe you’re the _Batman_.” He paused for dramatic effect. “No?” He sighed as the king of spades was thrown into the camera lens.

“Commissioner?” He challenged, revealing the jack of spades.

“How about the Mayor?” As he flipped the jack of diamonds through his fingers.

“Of course, those are all the face cards. You have to _earn_ the right to be a face card.” He once again set his eyes on the camera, and Jon by extension, and levelled them both with a terrorizing grin.

Abruptly, the Joker began to throw cards individually at the camera as he began to speak: “Of course, you have to have your average Joe’s, your Aunt Mary’s, the butcher, the baker, the dynamite stick maker.” He paused for a moment, and then threw the remaining stack of cards at the camera with a growl.

“The undefined masses. So which are you, hm? What’s it going to take to separate you from the others, to make you stand out, before you fade away with the rest of the numbers?” The Joker made a ‘poof’ gesture, and lingered in his stationary position for a moment. He gazed at the camera with a wicked gleam, and proceeded to upthrow the table, knocking the camera off its mounted spot and sending it to the ground.

Jon heard a muffled chortle as the camera position changed, until it was yet again centered on the Joker’s impish profile. “There’s only one card that makes a difference, it doesn’t add or take away from the numbers. It just _is_.” He sung as he pulled the Joker card out of his pocket. “Cards 2-10, Jack, Queen, King. A strategist would identify their interwoven relationships to win the game. I’m the most free of all the cards; the most unpredictable. I find _my own way_ to win.”

He began to turn the card over and inspect it. “There’s one in every deck; and it always seems to show up when you least expect it.” He contorted his face into a knowing look. “If you ask me, there needs to be more wild cards in the deck, mhm-hm.” He nodded along.

He reached down to grab the camera and stood up with the camera in his hands. “Oh, Gotham. I have so much more work to do!” He sing-songed.

Jon heard more gurgling noises in the background. “Oh, don’t worry Simon, you don’t have to get up. I won’t be needing you for this adventure.”

The Joker turned, and a door was visible in the frame, meaning he was on the move. At once, the camera turned behind the Joker and was focused on a man on the floor, twitching, with a massive wound to his carotid artery. “Oh, I nearly forgot Simon. Was this your card?” The Joker said as he flashed the Joker card in front of the frame. Simon gave the Joker a weak glance mixed with confusion and anger. “Ah, you’ve got to do everything yourself,” he muttered to himself.

The Joker leaned down and picked up the card laying face down on Simon’s chest. He flipped the card over and sighed. “Oh, the ace of spades. Not the card I’m looking for, I’m afraid.” He said as he emptied four rounds into Simon’s chest. Simon didn’t have the chance to blink before he was dead.

The Joker turned the camera back to himself. “I hope you enjoyed my little presentation!” He smiled. A broad, cheerful, dangerous, smile. “Brace yourselves. I’m coming for you Gotham.” He began to rave with boisterous laughter, dropping the camera onto the now dead body of Simon. “Sorry Simon, but you’re going to have to give that back, turns out, I’m not a good sharer!” His cackles faded as the camera was turned off.

++++++++++++++

The next morning in the news there was publicity of Arkham Asylum, but not in the way Jeremiah Arkham would have hoped. Instead of boasting the progressive state of rehabilitation at Arkham Asylum, there was publicity of the dead body of 48 year old Simon de Grasse, splayed across Jon’s office desk, no less.

However, what was not publicized was the crumpled note in Simon’s locked hand, outstretched across Jon’s workspace. What wasn’t publicized was the unnerving, messy scribbles of the note, which still sent a shiver down Jon’s side when he thought about it.

_Will you be my ace in the hole?_ 
_So many possibilities, so much time to explore them. You’ll do just fine._ 
_**-J** _ 


  


**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Hope you guys enjoyed it! Fun fact, excluding the first bit, this was the first thing I wrote for Warpaint! Got to love my weird timelines! :P  
>   
> And also, in light of recent events, I chose to keep the P.O.W purposefully vague in relation to the race of the individuals keeping Pat hostage. Though this is a fun project for me, I do not subscribe to racial profiling and the like, so it will not be featured in this story. The P.O.W camp event needed to happen though, to give Pat a backstory for his scars, or I probably would have scrapped the scene altogether. Just wanted to let you guys know!!  
>   
> Constructive criticism is highly appreciated, and let me know what you loved/didn't like/want to see more of, I do take it into consideration!  
>   
> Much love,  
>   
> -Aria  
> 


End file.
